Another Plane
by spyder-m
Summary: "Pyrrha, I want you." Pyrrha's most vivid fantasy comes to life. Erotic lucid dreaming. Sister-story to Dreamscape.


Another Plane

"Pyrrha, I want you."

The words were uttered softly, the hint of uncertainty normally coating his voice entirely absent.

Blue eyes pierced through her gaze, shining and unashamed. His voice, honest and raw, reverberated in a chill down her spine; the palpitation of her heart building in frantic staccato.

Though the words were repeated, tattooed across her heart each night, the raw intensity in his delivery never failed to catch her breath.

It wasn't the first time she had seen him here.

Each time that he visited her it always unfolded the same way.

His arms would surround her, the heat radiating from his body only serving to reiterate the sincerity of his words, as he held her with a passion she had only dreamt of.

Pyrrha knew that everything she saw, every feeling coursing through her wasn't the result of anything real. Yet, the sight, the sensation was so vivid, she didn't have a problem pretending, even if only for a moment.

It was why she found herself waking each morning with sweat seeping into her sheets, her face flushed and breath ragged. There was a strain, a frustration weighing heavily upon her. As though, even with the time she had spent sleeping, rest had escaped her.

Despite the pleasure this reverie awoke in her, it never quite seemed to quell the burning desire licking at her body. It always lingered, remaining with her throughout the day. No matter how closer she desperately tried to pull herself.

As she slept, her body continued to move of its own accord; her hand reaching blindly beneath the sheets to stroke at the ache between her legs. Muscle memory goaded by the urge burning within her, a routine she had unconsciously fallen into.

Pyrrha whimpered softly at the contact, imagining the fingers penetrating her were larger and less calloused. Her lip caught between her teeth to muffle the sound, wanting to focus solely on the steadily building rhythm.

"Pyrrha," a warm, familiar voice called to her as she stroked, throwing off her concentration.

Though fond and gentle in how it addressed her, it felt intrusive; carrying over the surroundings of her own private plan. Pyrrha's face contorted, her eyes scrunching closed as she turned her head, hoping if she ignored it, the voice would eventually fade.

Yet, it persisted.

"Pyrrha."

A wave of jarring clarity flooded back to her; the surrounding dreamscape beginning to crumble. It brought with it a sense of dread; a single, coherent thought.

Someone was trying to wake her.

Pyrrha's sleep had never been interrupted before.

For months, this sense of release, of reprieve, was only something she'd been able to find while in the realm of her dreams. Even if it wasn't real, she wanted to hold onto this feeling. The sense of affection and completeness she could never quite experience anywhere else.

If she left now, she wasn't sure if when she would she be able to return again. If at all.

She fought, determined, against her returning consciousness.

The voice, however, was insistent, breaking into a teasing chuckle.

"Come on, Pyrrha," it coaxed once more. She felt her body shift and move beneath another force. "Open your eyes."

She was stirred by the sound of his voice, the feeling of fingertips gently pressing at the bare skin of her shoulder. It rippled through her body, like an electric current.

Surprisingly, the pleasure coiling between her legs wasn't immediately torn away as she feared; faint ripples still lingering.

Reluctantly, her eyes opened, the haze of sleep dissipating as her vision adjusted to its surroundings.

There was someone waiting by the side of her bed, eyes clouded by an emotion she couldn't quite recognise, watching her with rapt, unbroken attention.

Though, from the frown his lips settled into, the furrowing of his brow, he seemed at odds with himself. Conflicted over how to act. He wanted to turn away, conscious of what he had caught her doing, but couldn't bear to rid the image from his eyes.

"Jaune," she muttered, her voice thick.

It was morning, shortly after dawn. Soft light broke through the gaps in between their shutters, shadow illuminating Team JNPR's dorm in grey.

Pyrrha was normally up around this time and getting ready for class; heading for the deserted shower blocks to wash away the residue still clinging to the inside of her legs.

It probably wouldn't be long before Nora woke, bringing Ren and the demand for pancakes with her.

For now, though, it was just the two of them. Jaune's gaze holding Pyrrha in silence, as his hand remained rested on her shoulder.

There was something particularly disarming about being woken up by the person you had just been fantasising about.

One moment, Jaune had been naked, holding and touching her body in reverence, and now, he was before her; watching.

With a hazy conscious still riddled by sleep, the two moments could have easily blurred together. She could have carried on, without a thought. Her fantasy of him, of their relationship, seamlessly crossing the threshold into reality. Her body hadn't had time to adjust, her fingers having still not shifted from their position beneath the sheets.

Even Jaune, who could be described as oblivious on his better days, couldn't mistake what he had caught her doing.

The evidence was written across her features, in the way her pulse beat erratically, ragged breaths carrying from her body. The sweat building on her neck, her unbound hair sticking to her skin in damp clumps.

Though she had, thankfully, been clothed, her thin nightgown left no mystery. Her hand, retreated from beneath the waistband of her underwear, fingers slick with her arousal. The sight of hazy, blue eyes watching her through disheveled, blonde bangs, weighing her down with such intensity.

It was then the full, mortifying reality of Pyrrha's actions became clear to her. That the man she loved had just caught her touching herself.

That she would have to live with the consequences of what she'd done on another plane of consciousness, amidst a world of her own private desires, as it been broadcast before him, as clearly as the steadily rising sun.

Pyrrha ducked her head, the embarrassment and shame searing itself into her skin. She wanted nothing more than to sink into herself and hide from the rest of the world.

"Pyrrha." The hand resting on her shoulder; contact that normally calmed her; made her tense. "There's no need to be embarrassed."

Pyrrha could have laughed. Bitterly. It was easy for him to say, he wasn't the one who had been seen masturbating.

Stubbornly, she turned away, knowing that there was no way she could bare to even look at him. Not after what he had seen.

"This isn't like you." He continued softly, his breath catching thin wisps of her hair by her ear. "You're usually so much more confident."

With her bottom lip catching between her teeth, Pyrrha wasn't so sure this was true. She was a confident fighter, certainly; always sure of herself and her abilities. Yet, when it came to acting upon, or even expressing, her own feelings she felt years behind most girls her age.

She was painfully shy.

Perhaps Jaune sensed this, his expression settling into a frown as he reached out to catch her cheek delicately.

"Look at me." He spoke without a trace of trepidation in his voice. The words were firm, but the hand that touched her gentle.

It was endearing and familiar, one that Pyrrha felt she could trust. She could feel herself giving in. Stubbornly, she shook her head.

"Come on Pyrrha, please. It's me."

Pyrrha's eyes lifted, tentatively, eventually catching his own.

There was a sudden, startling intimacy in the gesture; one that she hadn't felt between them before. Eyes that had become so familiar to Pyrrha carried an entirely new intensity in their depths. One that compelled her, almost immediately, to severe the connection.

Perhaps it was lying before him, still half-asleep, waves of arousal sifting through her, but she felt naked and vulnerable beneath those eyes.

They had been sharing a dorm room together for almost a year and had grown rather close in that time. They had expressed some of their deepest doubts and fears to one another, without hesitance. If there was anyone that she trusted, it was Jaune.

Ever since yesterday, it was clear that things had changed between them. Their relationship was crossing unfamiliar boundaries. Perhaps after what they'd seen of each other, after how far things between them had gone, her embarrassment was unfounded.

Still, it was all startingly unfamiliar to her.

As if conscious of this, Jaune's voice lowered accordingly. In the privacy of the moment; knowing that he was alone with Pyrrha and trusted her more than anyone; he no longer felt nervous.

"Do you always think of me when you touch yourself?"

"I-," Pyrrha bit her lip, her hesitant voice breaking off into a cry as Jaune's finger slipped beneath the covers and entered her slowly.

A spark coiled is way through her lower body, thin wisps of pleasure building in her core. It was enough to thrust her agonisingly towards the brink, yet not enough to leave completely satisfied.

Her free hand clenched into a fist as she struggled to muffle the sound escaping her. At the other end of the room, she heard Ren mumble something unintelligible, before turning and lying still.

"Answer me," Jaune insisted roughly, the digit slipping away from her as quickly as it had entered.

"Y- yes," she whimpered. Her body and heart quivering as she bucked against him, hoping to reignite the ember inside her that had been so abruptly snuffed out.

Satisfied with her answer, Jaune complied, his lean fingers caressing the walls of her sanctum.

It was strangely invigorating to see him act so assertively around her. In most cases, Pyrrha had been the one between them to take the initiative, be it in class, or training. Their relationship seemed to be the one exception.

Even though she had developed feelings for him first, it was Jaune who eventually had to notice the hints she had been dropping.

Jaune who had to overcome his disbelief that someone like Pyrrha Nikos could possibly ever be interested in him, and eventually reciprocate them.

Now, he was the one setting the pace, fingers pumping into her, in a slow, agonising rhythm, leaving her writhing and breathless. The intense heat that coursed through Pyrrha was unlike what she'd experienced before. The stroke of her own hands, even blanketed by fantasies, could only excite her so much.

It paled compared to his presence, his touch, solid and real.

Pyrrha reached out to clasp Jaune's shirt, pulling herself towards him; closer to the stroke of his fingers, the heat and friction of his body. Her lips sought his own, desperately wanting the moment to play out as she had fantasised, to offer him the same affection her was giving her.

She could hardly contain the ardour that rose in her chest as he kissed back, the motion of his hand not stilling.

"Jaune!" Pyrrha cried out, as a powerful twinge worked its way through her body.

Her arms fell limp, as she slumped into the solid plane of his chest.

Jaune's hands that she'd one found so comforting and familiar, were new and thrilling in how they caressed her body, the sparks they left in their wake. It was numbing her senses, leaving her helpless and slack as she whimpered, desperately trying to contain her voice.

Jaune smirked, as if deliberately trying to break through her composure. With his longer fingers, able to caress those crevices she hadn't quite been able to reach, the odds seemed in his favour.

Pulling closer, his lips stroked her eyelids. A gentle caress contrasting to the pace his fingers were working at.

"That's it, Pyrrha."

His breath, hot against her ear, speaking the words she had only ever imagined, was enough to set her over the edge.

"Come for me."

Pyrrha's mouth gripped the juncture between Jaune's neck and shoulder, muffling her voice against him in a high-pitched scream.

The skin where her teeth had lingered was red and blotchy as they separated. It was a good thing that Jaune's uniform had a high-collared shirt.

Pyrrha collapsed back against her bed, her body still quivering as her arms gave out. For all the strength her body possessed, her orgasm had completely sapped her.

Her eyes closed, Pyrrha had never felt so in tine, so conscious of the myriad sensations wracking her body. As though the pleasure from Jaune's touch, the connection of their bodies, had awoken in her a greater capacity to feel.

She focused on the breaths carrying through her body, the rhythm calming the frantic beating of her heart in time with the fading pulsations between her thighs.

She could sense Jaune's presence bedside her. His strong, bright aura blanketing her, the heat still radiating from his body.

The way his lips gently found hers. Warm breath kissing her skin, before closing the distance in a soft, lingering touch.

While it had been thrilling for him to touch her boldly and passionately, there was something so intimately familiar, so innately Jaune, about his shy, tender caresses, something that warmed Pyrrha to her bones.

Her eyes opened, immediately drawn to the bright cerulean spheres before them as he rested his forehead against her own.

"You don't need to fantasise about me anymore, Pyrrha." Jaune said earnestly, the words tracing a pattern over her lips.

A promise.

"I'm all yours."


End file.
